Springing from Shoemakersville, a modest bluegrass trio formed in 1996, Frog Holler has evolved into a sprawling, genre-bending sextet. The band augments the introspective folk sensibilities and hill-country fatalism of primary singer-songwriter Darren Schlappich with a strong, all-for-one communal feel and a spry, clucking, string-band wraparound.
Occasionally they jolt the proceedings with John Kilgore’s blistering, overamped guitar, but Frog Holler keeps the toy in its pocket for the most part, judiciously using it for dynamic texture rather than building their whole sound around it. Moreover, when it is unleashed, the electric guitar usually has a pedal steel and an electrifying fiddle along for the ride.
The real strength of Adams Hotel Road, though, lies in its songs. Schlappich’s warm, reedy vocals sell his tales of hard-luck and lost love with such thoughtful, earnest conviction that you can’t help wondering if he’s spending too much time looking in his rearview mirror. Then again, Schlappich embraces regret and melancholy with such poetic grace — “Certain things just can’t be explained/Like the bond between a woman and the moon/Certain things that never go away/I was hopin’ that one of them was you/But you’re leaving soon” — that his aches and pains are oddly uplifting.
The band’s own production is sturdy, if unspectacular, and the ensemble playing is exhilaratingly organic. There’s a little bit of every kind of Americana at work here, some of it pure-bred, some cross-pollinated; all of it plays out pretty darn convincingly.
